Edward of the Weselton Ducal Guard
by IronicSnap
Summary: Behold the unsung tale of Edward: who you probably know better as the shorter Wesleton guard who has small muttonchops as opposed to a full moustache. Dare ye discover what thoughts lurk beneath those mildly sassy facial expressions?
1. Arrival in Arendelle

_**Moshi moshi, fanfiction dawt net! How are things? It's, heh... it's been a while. Honestly, I'm not actually finished this story yet, but in a week's time it would be a full year since my last update – perhaps best to put *something* out, eh?**_

_**So I saw Frozen recently – at least, I had when I began working on this – and wow, such movie. Disney has been knocking them out of the park of late, haven't they? Characters are funnier, effects are more breathtaking, and villains are getting a lot, lot sneakier! Heck, I can't even openly discuss Frozen's true villain, because of the whole [REDACTED] situation, which is a shame, since [DATA EXPUNGED].**_

_**All in all, it was difficult for me to choose a favourite character. Between the entertainingly energetic Anna, the charming and determined Hans, and the utterly badass Elsa, who could I pick?**_

_**The guard from Wesleton that doesn't have a moustache. That's who.**_

_**Wait, what?**_

_**On a second viewing, I happened to be watching this guy – who I have temporarily dubbed "Edward" – more closely. And holy crap, this non-speaking tertiary villain demonstrated a surprising amount of personality through sassy facial expressions alone. Ultimately, he won my respect, to the infinite chagrin of my Elsa-loving sister.**_

_**With that in mind, I have decided to write a little one-shot dedicated to this most minor of characters. Not unlike my first ever story on this site, a tribute to Link Deas, but hopefully a lot less stupid and terrible.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

* * *

The ship sailed slowly through the placid waters of Arendelle's principle fjord. Edward stood on the prow, taking in the picturesque views of the main town's colourful and sloping buildings, culminating in the beautiful, spired castle of the nation's royalty.

Edward tried not to yawn.

He had never been an architecture aficionado. For that matter, he had never had much interest in art of any kind. He would've described himself as a man of action, which was perhaps a sign that he was more poetical than he realized.

Such ideals against ideals alone had pushed him towards a career more suited to using one's fists as opposed to one's artistic sensibilities. Given Edward's disinclination to die of frostbite in a gods-forsaken muddy hole thousands of miles from home, he had ultimately given full military service a wide berth, and instead trained as a personal bodyguard.

Objectively, he knew that he was a fortunate man to receive a post with the Duke of Weselton. Subjectively, he was less certain.

Yes, all it really required of him was to stand around menacingly and not give the Duke any backtalk – two tasks he took to well, due to his naturally near-silent disposition. But there were definite drawbacks, mostly stemming from his charge's more eccentric traits. Still, it was hard to deny that it was an easy gig, and that it paid nicely for how little it demanded of him.

There was a heavy footfall behind him. Edward turned his head slightly to acknowledge the arrival of his colleague Warren. Warren was a heavy-set man who was almost as quiet as Edward, meaning that the two had easily formed a very efficient working relationship. Warren nodded to Edward, Edward returned the gesture, and the two settled into their usual state of comfortable silence.

"Arendelle," remarked Warren eventually, but with little interest. Edward grunted in agreement.

The ship continued to close in on the harbour, weaving around the multiple other vessels from various nations who were also present for Princess Elsa's imminent coronation. Edward scanned what he could make out of the other crews and their passengers, but did so knowing it was pointless. He hardly expected anyone to make trouble for the representatives of Arendelle's largest trading partner. His gaze briefly settled on the ship from Corona, his attention drawn by an exuberant conversation between a young woman in a purple dress and a man with dark brown hair. Given that this was the most dangerous thing he could see on any ship, he satisfied himself that the diplomatic mission would be as boring as he feared.

"Good morning, gentlemen!"

The two guards turned and bowed smartly to the Duke, who had finally emerged from his room. The tiny man pushed past them, looked at Arendelle briefly, and nodded to himself.

"Excellent! It seems I picked a most opportune moment to wake up," said the Duke in his usual bombastic manner. "Well boys, I hope you're prepared. I envisage that this is going to turn out to be a most _inter_esting sojourn indeed."

Edward allowed himself the slightest roll of the eyes. If only.


	2. Bedlam at the Ball

_**Welcome back to "Frozen 1 ½; Hakuna Matata"**_

The coronation ceremony and the events leading up to it passed by reasonably well. After finding their temporary quarters, Edward and Warren changed out of their standard uniforms into the formal wear they were afforded. The most difficult task they faced during the reception afterwards was reminding the Duke to perhaps watch his words more carefully, given his occasional habit of letting slip his intentions to extract Arendelle's economic secrets as though they were the juicy centre of a coconut. The guards felt that these sentiments may have been construed as undiplomatic.

As the guests mingled, Edward often noticed the younger princess, who he was informed was named Anna, bounding around the halls like a cannonball of enthusiasm. She greeted each new face with a curtsy, a fumbled attempt at a formal introduction, and a few seconds of fast-paced conversation before being drawn to someone else, with the process repeating indefinitely throughout the afternoon.

The other figure who made similarly prolific social movements was a personable young man with red hair. Edward gathered that this was Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, mostly from the fact that the man took pains to introduce himself to everyone in the palace as Prince Hans of the Southern Isles.

Of all the attendees of the function, it was only Anna and Hans who had actually made any attempt to speak to Edward and Warren themselves, and not merely exchange the standard diplomatic dance with the Duke. Anna seemed to make no distinction between the dignitaries and their staffs, while Hans was impeccably and unflappably polite to anyone who crossed his path. After the ceremony, however, the two disappeared for quite a stretch of time. This left the two guards in the same position they usually were at these kinds of functions – listening to the Duke blather incessantly to, at and about other people of his rank.

As Edward watched the Duke throw what could only be described as a hissy fit over some trade dispute with another kingdom, he contemplated that this may turn out to be the most boring coronation in the history of human civilisation.

Suddenly, he was proved very, very wrong.

The sound of raised voices reverberated throughout the ballroom, and little by little the conversations in the room died as people turned to look.

It appeared that an argument had erupted between the new queen and her sister. Edward watched with a mild interest. He had missed what had originally started the row, but it had clearly moved on to another, more personal matter. Elsa was now trying to leave as quickly as possible. Anna, for some reason, was holding one of the queen's gloves.

"What did I ever do to you?!" demanded Anna. She seemed to be close to tears.

Queen Elsa was hardly a portrait of stoicism herself, although it was evident that she was doing her utmost to contain her emotions in front of the guests. She had almost made it to the doors of the ballroom. "Enough, Anna," she said forcefully.

"No. Why? Why do you shut me out?!" Anna continued. "Why do you shut the world out!? What are you so afraid of?!"

"I said **enough**!" Elsa lashed out with her gloveless hand. To the absolute shock of everyone in the room, a stream of ice fired from her hand. It spread outward into a crescent, forming into deadly sharp icicles. Edward, Warren and the Duke were only a few centimeters from the ice.

"...Sorcery!" the Duke murmured, voice reflecting both horror and anger. He moved closer to Warren for protection. "I knew there was something dubious going on here."

Warren's face reflected the same shock and confusion the other attendees were feeling, although as a soldier he was certainly calmer than many of them.

Edward, on the other hand, had a unique reaction to this development. Despite himself, his first response was feeling... impressed. He had never believed in the myths and legends of sorcery, but this woman was living evidence that there was something to them after all. In an instant, _unintentionally_, she had displayed more power than Edward had assumed any one person could have. He couldn't help but smile at the thought of it.

Edward was the only person to react in any way positively. The guests were staring in horrified silence, but no-one was more distressed than the queen. After casting a terrified glance at the crowd, she burst through the doors and fled.

Edward underwent an uncharacteristic moment of dazed inaction. It didn't last long, since the Duke helpfully struck him in the side to get his attention. "Don't just stand there!" he yelled. "After her! Follow the sorceress!"

The icicles were sharp and bitingly cold, but they were still only ice. Edward and Warren kicked them down as quickly as they could and then set of in the direction Queen Elsa had left. They left the assembly of shocked guests behind. Princess Anna in particular seemed completely lost.

Edward had assumed that the Duke would stay in the ballroom, but to his surprise his employer not only ran with them, he soon overtook them. The Duke was surprisingly fleet-footed for an elderly aristocrat. That said, he probably would have had to be to maintain the repertoire of dance moves that he had.

They came to the castle's front door to find Elsa in the courtyard, surrounded by Arendelle's citizenry. They arrived just in time to see the queen freeze a water fountain, its shape becoming twisted and surreal mid-air as the water unnaturally solidified.

"There she is! Stop her!" commanded the Duke to the two bodyguards, an instruction that was completely unnecessary given that they could both see her very clearly.

Elsa gave the Duke a pleading look. "Please, just stay away from me. Just stay away!"

She reached out her gloveless hand instinctively. Suddenly, another blast of icy magic flew from her, striking the area the three were standing. Edward felt the ground under him suddenly transform from an expensive carpet to slippery ice. Before he could process another thought he was on the ground with the Duke and Warren, having abruptly lost his balance. He reflected briefly that if the queen was genuinely trying not to harm people, she wasn't doing an excellent job.

A few moments were lost as Edward and Warren had to help the Duke to stand, mostly because their charge was furiously gesturing and yelling "Monster! **Monster!**" at the top of his lungs. During this time, both Princess Anna and Prince Hans ran past them, awkwardly moving over the newly created ice.

By the time the Duke was on his feet and was no longer screaming obscenities out from under his moustache, Edward knew that the queen was gone. There was no point trying to tail her, especially since she could have gone in practically any direction after clearing the castle's gates. His suspicions were confirmed when he spotted a despondent Anna returning to the courtyard, followed closely by Hans. Edward and Warren shared a silent nod, affirming to each other that it was best to remain with the Duke.

Just when the evening seemed to have reached its peak for strange happenings, a collection of white flakes began to fall from the sky. Edward blinked, at first thinking it was a trick of the light. But after a few seconds, it become undeniably clear – it was snowing.

The Duke nearly had a conniption. "Look! It's snowing! It's snowing!" he said, gazing at the sky fearfully. "The queen has _cursed _this land! She must be stopped!" He turned resolutely to Edward and Warren and gave them the exact order they did not want to hear. "You have to go after her."

Thankfully, they were saved from what was at worst a suicide mission and at best a boring waste of time, thanks to an unlikely person.

"Wait, no!" called Anna, who had overheard the Duke. His eyes widened as she approached. He pulled Edward and Warren in front of him, and pointed accusingly at the princess.

"You!" he spat. "Is there sorcery in you, too? Are you a _monster _too?"

They were soon arguing over what had transpired, the Duke claiming that Elsa's blast of ice had 'nearly killed him' – which Edward found ridiculous – and Anna claiming that Elsa meant no-one any harm – which Edward found doubly ridiculous. His patience for the snow queen had been expired, and at this stage he honestly hoped she was malevolent, since the alternative, in his view, was that she was completely inexperienced and incompetent. He knew better than to show any disrespect to a foreign royal, but he allowed himself to roll his eyes and smile incredulously when she wasn't looking at him.

Ultimately, Anna declared that she would find her sister and convince her to end the winter. As her horse was brought to her, she appointed Hans as the one to be in charge of Arendelle while both she and Elsa were absent. Edward knew little of politics, but something about the inexperienced princess reacting to the true monarch's absence due to the revelation of her ice sorcery by using her unofficial status as supposed regent to appoint executive powers to a foreigner who had only arrived in the country that morning as slightly odd.

The princess snapped the reins and was off, riding quickly through the gates. They watched her go.

"I'll go fetch the crossbows, will I, sir?" queried Edward quietly, so that Hans and the others wouldn't hear him.

The Duke absently stroked his moustache as his eyes narrowed. "Yes. That's certainly not a bad idea."


End file.
